“Come here.” He enfolded her into his familiar scent of fresh spicy soap. “We will get rid of this, baby, I promise.”
“But…”
“Shush, vahrasth moltarram noirceis…” His chant was deep and soothing as her body grew heavy. Her muscles eased.
“Vahrasth noirceis,” he said again, and the darkness in her mind receded.
As he kissed her deeply, she sank into him, into all he was. His strong arms around her, his intoxicating scent, his manliness.
She sighed inwardly.
It had been just a dream, not real. The evil entity in the beach house was a reality but she was far, far away from it and as long as Sinclair was here, she was not alone fighting this.
He released her and looked at her with intent. “Better?”
“I think so.”
He slid down next to her under the quilt and drew her to him. She nestled her head on his chest, her cheek on his bare skin.
He wore nothing but his usual silk boxers and she found herself intertwining her legs with his. Wanting every inch of her body to feel his warmth, to be merged with him.
She knew they would find a way. Find a way to defeat Morgius, find a way to be together while she still remained independent. The truth was that Sin was just as part of this as she was. Had suffered as much as she did. Had lost his mother, and almost his sister when Kerala left Seaport stricken with grief.
Celeste’s heart swelled with love for him.
“Sinclair, I love you.” She finally said it, unable to hold off anymore.
Leaning on his strength. She had to believe that he’d help her push the darkness away.
“I’m sorry I left you behind like that,” she added as he pressed her against him closer. “I wasn’t thinking. I was running away from myself more than I was running away from home.”
He kissed the top of her head, then flipped his powerful body over her.
He contemplated her, deeply moved. “God, Celeste, I love you so much, I thought I had lost you all over again.”
“I wouldn’t leave you.” She marveled inwardly at how Sinclair so easily turned from the perfect gentleman into her ferocious guardian.
“Baby. I’m a fool, I admit. All I thought of was to keep you safe, protected, cherished. Yes, it’s true. Part of me wanted to keep you tucked in at The Crest doing nothing and never leave. I was so scared. I forgot you have dreams, things you want to do.”
He looked down at her feverishly, his expression tight with worry. “Babe, I promise. We’ll get rid of Morgius, then we keep driving south. We do need a break from the family. You were right. You get that job at Burke and Cones, I’ll stay with you there.”
“You’re serious?” She shook her head in disbelief. “You want to move to New York? What about The Crest? What about your whole estate?”
“Porter’s a great housekeeper. He can look after it. And Kerala’s around. The estate can be run just as easily from New York.”
“And the Order?”
“They can spare me for a while.”
“Are you sure?” She frowned, guilt easing into her that he would leave his family behind.
“Oh yes, as sure about that as I am about how much I love you, how much I want you.”
Holding himself above her with one hand, he slid his palm along her waist, then cupped her back side. He was hard against her thigh. She could feel him. His muscular body embracing her and his heart full of love, of need, as he contemplated her.
“I want you,” she said to him her voice hoarse, staring into the depth of the deep green of his eyes, specks of gold flashing his heat for her.
“Ist gahzem kesharan,” he murmured under his breath.
The blaze of intense need from his spell made her curl her back into him and, as the erotic spell flourished through her, she cry out.
“Kesharan ith Sinclair Varma Clarke.” She countered with her own spell.
“You little witch,” he protested. Sin bent down to furiously take her lips, as overtaken by lust as she was, her spell meant to increase his desire of her a thousand fold.
She leveled with him, their gazes heavy upon each other. “Take me,” she ordered.
“Baby...” Sin yanked her sweatpants down below her hips. He wedged his knee between her legs and palmed her damped skin, so wet and ready for him from the spell he’d cast.
Ripples of scorching bliss pulsed from his touch, bringing her to the edge. “Now. Don’t wait,” she commanded.
“Don’t you worry,” he asserted. He discarded his shorts and rubbed himself along her folds, back and forth, so hard and thick that she quickly forgot she was in charge.
“Take me,” she ordered, his demanding flesh teasing the highly sensitive juncture between her thighs. She arched her hips toward him as he cupped a breast in his free hand, licked the tender and taunt nipple.
Spikes of need pierced through her as he nibbled at the bud. He stopped just enough to mumble the words again. “Celeste Madeleine Stanford, kesharan.” Her senses tuned into every single hot stimulation along her skin.
“Sinclair.” She moaned, having no more strength to meet his magic with hers, no longer wanting to command him, but yearning to just let herself fall under his spell, his lead.
His wide muscular shoulders blocked all that could harm her, trapped her under his powerful body, keeping her safe and falling into such intense love and bliss, she never wanted to leave.
She pleaded once more for him to take her, this time sweet and soft, needing his strength inside her. Now, Forever. To bring her to completion and make her whole.
“Baby, I love you so much,” he groaned, his feline DNA taking over, the hoarseness in his voice giving a hint of what he’d suffered, of how he’d do anything to keep her safe and close.
When he finally penetrated her, she was so ready, she thought she would die of relief. Her breath stilled as she felt every single inch of him entering her, stretching wide to take in all of him. A deep warmth rose from the very center of her to spread over her entire body and her buckling muscles yielded into him.
She clasped both sides of his jaw to make him look at her. Her lips parted, she held his gaze while he slid in and out of her slowly, intentionally. Watching her for every sight of delight.
As he held her under his mesmerizing feline gaze, he whispered again, “Kesharan.” His tone was full of love, full of the intent to bring her to the highest peak.
A tide of hot and deep desire washed over her at his spell. She drowned in it, her mind lost, everything receded to make way for just one thing—him, the powerful man she loved inside her, and her desperate need for him to bring her release.
He slid a hand between them and stroked in time with each of his slow and controlled thrusts. “Come for me, baby. Now. Be with me.”
And when the orgasm shattered her, she used its energy to scream her own spell. “Ist gahzem kesharan, Sin. Kesharan!” She exploded into a million shards of ecstasy.
He tensed and exhaled. His body seized with the last powerful thrust as he rode the erotic tide of pleasure she had cast upon him.
He collapsed on top of her, their drenched naked bodies intertwined, then met her lips, which he kissed gently, almost reverently.
He smiled. “You’re everything.”
She returned his smile and lazily eased into the mattress while he rolled off her, her body deliciously sore, her fingers interlacing with his.
After swapping to her side, she laid her head upon his broad chest. They would head back home, gather the warlocks, and defeat Morgius.
With Sin at her side, she felt ready.
She was going over what she’d tell her mother once they’d get back to Seaport when a loud knock echoed at their door.
Her heart jumped in her chest. Sin bolted straight up.
“Sin, Celeste, you guys in there?”
Chapter 10
A towel wrapped around his damp body, Sin emerged from the shower and stared with contempt at Thornwood Hunt
ington, Alchemist, Keeper of Truths, and Warlock of the Order of the Black Oak. The man who’d invaded their hotel room just a few minutes ago.
Nice timing, buddy.
Thorn spoke in a low tone with Celeste, looking at her meager collection of sacred tools scattered on the bed. His expression was serious, concerned, as he raked his hand along his close-shaven skull.
He sported his usual long black duster, his wrist adorned with many silver and leather cords, each a weapon or protection. Besides that, Thorn preferred the minimalist look, plain black jeans, black t-shirt. The same every day, as if caring for anything but his craft would make him weaker, less focused.
When Sinclair had texted the warlock earlier asking for help, he hadn’t expected the alchemist to show up at the doorstep of the inn.
“We’ll need her.” Thorn looked up at him, a tiny dusty prayer book from Celeste’s collection in his hand. “Look, I know you worry about her but she’s a powerful sorceress. I’ve seen her cast.”
“You have?” Sin said.
“It’s not like these things go without us noticing,” Thorn said.
“You spied on me?” Celeste’s mouth fell open with outrage, ice in her gaze. “Did my dad...”
“No.” Thorn shook his head. “Diesel asked. Don’t be mad at him. He just wanted me to look after you.”
“And no one told me.” Sinclair’s anger rose quickly. How could Diesel leave him in the dark like that?
“You’re not what I’d call impartial.” Thorn shot him a dead stare. “Diesel wanted to give her some space. Let her find her own way to deal.”
Celeste nodded silently, her expression unreadable.
“That was before we knew Morgius had a hold on her,” Thornwood added grimly.
“Right,” Sin said with gloom. “Why did you come? I texted you that we were heading home.”
Thorn stared at the unmade bed, probably still carrying the scent of sex, and turned a steady gaze at Sin. “You were?”
“Yes, I swear,” Celeste said firmly, then turned to Sin with a shock looked. “You texted him?”
“Just telling him about Morgius,” Sin told her. “Thorn’s the expert. Didn’t expect you to show up, though.”
“Had to. We don’t have much time. If he manifested this morning, we have less than twenty-four hours to return his essence to his binding. The Sea Serpent chest. We have to put it back into the chest before the turn of the day.” He sighed. “I would have brought Diesel and the elders but everyone headed to the west coast last night. Those strange shadow beings are back.”
Sin brooded over Thorn’s warnings, then nodded with anxiety at the impending timeline to free Celeste.
“Tonight is the only time,” Thorn said. “Lucky for us, the sky will be clear and the moon’s almost full. We need to trap him again. If we fail, he will be roaming free. He’ll take over your body, Celeste. Slowly consuming you. Get you to do his biddings. Harvest whatever soul you encounter in your path before your mortal body can’t take it anymore. Just as Burton did before you.”
“Is Morgius… alive?” Celeste, her face drained of color, pushed her glasses back to the bridge of her nose.
Sin rushed to hug her, misery in his heart.
“A living dead, sort of.” Thorn said. “But he’s more a shadow entity, a gathering of anti-energy. When Burton summoned him centuries ago, he crossed over from another realm. Here he is a concentration of all which is the worst in humans—envy, hate, greed. There is no soul, no conscience.”
“Just pure evil. Concentrated.”
“Does he understand? Can he speak?” Sinclair asked.
“He speaks in my mind.” Celeste was trembling in Sin’s arms, her eyes wide with distress.
“Yes, that’s how he communicates,” Thorn said. “He used your most fearful thoughts to make his wish known to you. He pointed at Celeste in the cottage, you said?”
Celeste cast a grim look at Sinclair and they both nodded silently. Dread seeped through Sin at remembering her succumb to madness at that simple gesture.
“Then for now,” Thorn said, “Celeste is what he wants. Burton consecrated her to him. If she is around, he will focus on leaving the chest to completely overtake her. That’s why we need her there.”
“No. We can’t have that.” Every inch of Sinclair’s body lurched at the idea.
“That’s the only chance we have. We all go in. She distracts him. And you and I can work to trap him.”
“Distract him, how?” Sin asked with hesitation. There was no way he’d let Celeste in harm’s way again.
“He’ll want to control her, get into her. She has to let him in just long enough so we can reach the Sea Serpent chest.”
“Yes, that would work,” Celeste said, her eyes flashing with hope.
“You’ll need to fight him, Celeste,” Thornwood said somberly.
“I will. I was caught off guard at the cottage this morning, but I know I can.”
“No.” Sin tightened his fists with resolve.
“Sinclair,” Thornwood said in warning.
“No,” Sin glared at the alchemist. “I won’t have her go through this again.”
Thornwood looked hard at him. “This is her fight, Sin.” He glanced at the determined expression suddenly showing in Celeste’s features. “And I don’t think she’s giving you the choice.”
Three Warlocks of the Black Oak—the beast, the alchemist, and the sorceress.
Celeste swallowed the lump in her throat as she hiked the path covered in reeds leading to the secluded beach house where the evil Morgius awaited. If she was one of the warlocks, now was the time to prove it. And Thornwood had spoken the truth, this was her fight. After months of this nightmare, she would free herself.
Thornwood walked beside her, so silent he almost glided while Sin roamed in panther form on her other side. The three sorcerers, striding under the crisp Snow Moon to rid the world of an entity powerful enough to make a young woman his instrument of destruction.
Sin had complained at first. But he had finally relented after forcing her to wear his Warden’s Cuff and making her promise she would let Thorn trap Morgius into the Sea Serpent chest while the shifter sorcerer guarded her safety.
The air was frigid, the marine breeze pushing her hair back in her face and fogging the lenses of her glasses, but she felt nothing. Only the pounding of her heart that even the deafening wind couldn’t hide.
Her fists tightened. She could do this, yes, she could.
But as she approached the house, her resolve shuttered. The fresh salty sea scent had been replaced by a caustic odor of death and decay. Was that Burton’s body rotting away already, or something more. Her jeans caught on low thorns and she reached down to brush it out.
A glutinous substance coated her hand. With revulsion she rubbed it on the lapel of her wool coat.
“What is that?” she whispered.
“Nothing, just ignore it,” Thornwood replied.
She shone her cell phone to the reeds and shuddered. The tall and slender plants were covered in a thick whitish film, like a diaphanous spider web.
She looked ahead and nearly gagged. The whole path, all the way to the house, was wrapped in the stuff, as if Morgius had spun a giant cocoon around himself.
Thorn must have sensed her hesitation and grabbed her by the elbow. “Come on,” he edged her on. “Keep your fear for your fight.”
Sin pressed against her leg, his powerful and warm feline body on her thigh, and the nausea receded.
This was nothing. What awaited was worse. Him, the evil darkness of Morgius inside her mind.
Now that was worst.
And she needed all her energy for it.
As they walked closer to the house, the sounds of sea and wind receded. The whole house was silent. Tomb-like. As if whatever Morgius was, prevented the very nature of sound and air pressure to carry through.
Heaviness settled upon her as they carefully tread up the stairs.
A
board beneath her feet creaked, its sound reverberating loud and clear in the deafness surrounding them.
Her heart jumped. Oh god, Morgius would know they were coming.
“Lucatum kini noirceis dolibix.” Thornwood intoned a shadow spell. They should be able to walk in without detection.
It had been settled, especially to alleviate Sin’s fears, that she’d keep all her power to fight Morgius within her and that Thorn would see to the rest. Sin had opted for the beast form, now that Morgius took human form and may need to quickly be restrained. But Celeste also knew that Sinclair was so worried about her, his anger pent up so tight, that he couldn’t contain himself and walk as a human.
Thorn nodded at her, his hand on the knob of the entrance. The formerly cheerful door adorned with seashell art was now covered in soot and spider webs, the wood slowly rotting reddish brown at the edges.
Celeste swallowed hard again and nodded back at Thorn, while Sinclair quietly edged away to circle the house from the back.
She was ready.
Chapter 11
As soon as Thorn pushed the door open, Celeste was engulfed by a tide of darkness. Tight, sluggish, suffocating darkness.
Thorn nodded at her and she braced herself. She took one step forward into hell.
From the faint light of her cell phone, she saw that the cottage no longer looked like a quaint home by the seashore.
Walls were covered in flimsy, milky webs, floors turned to thick, darkened rocks. The whole place resembled a cave deep in the earth. And the heat was unbearable.
She suppressed a gag at seeing Burton’s body wrapped in webs and spread wide on the back wall.
Her heart hammering in her chest, she edged closer to Thorn. Would she be able to sustain Morgius in her mind for even a few seconds?
A slight panic washed over her.
Where was Sin?
Thorn nudged at her arm and nodded to the corner of the room.
“The chest,” he whispered. The large box of ancient woods encircled with heavy brass snakes sat on a modern Danish-style coffee table.
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